I started this blog when my husband and I were expecting our first child to document my pregnancy and warn people of all the things nobody tells you about. Then it followed our family's journey through secondary infertility. It turns out I forgot as much as I learned. One might think that motherhood has softened me...
One would be wrong.

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Friday, February 20, 2015

It's a common scene for us, walking around our neighbourhood. It's a safe place with good schools and a real sense of community. There are often people out on the main strip holding clip boards, talking to passers-by about charitable organizations. This day was nothing out of the ordinary, except that it was the first time that I had to have a conversation about the place of women in the world.

On this day, the logo on the back of the clip board was the one for "Because I am a Girl." For those not familiar with the organization, this is their mission: "Because I am a Girl is a global initiative to end gender inequality, promote girls’ rights and lift millions of girls – and everyone around them – out of poverty."

The thing with (almost) six-year-old children is that they ask questions about absolutely everything. Because I have a firm pledge to always answer my children honestly when they ask a question, this sometimes leaves me struggling to find an age-appropriate way to explain what is happening in the world around them.

I told her that she is lucky to live here, because in some places in the world, girls are treated very differently. And then I shut up, because I realized that even here some girls are still treated very differently. I don't know how to answer these questions about the role of women in today's society because frankly, we get the short end of the stick an awful lot of the time. I make sure to mark the anniversary of the massacre at L'Ecole Polytechnique every year. Will I tell her that? How will I explain that right here in Canada women were murdered because they were born with an X instead of a Y.

I don't know the answers, but I know that doesn't mean that we should stop asking the questions. That's why I'm pleased to take part in Across Women's Lives, a collaborative radio, web and social media coverage of gender equity around the world hosted by SheKnows Media and Public Radio International. I'll be sharing experiences about #womenslives on Twitter and Facebook. Please follow along!

Saturday, February 7, 2015

You may remember us from the Parent and Toddler Playgroup. Mine is the gregarious, affectionate little guy who gave several of you big, unprompted hugs. Yes, I know, he IS adorable, and super-duper sweet. He's a little on the small side for his age which makes all the running and talking that little bit more endearing. He also hugged a bunch of your kids and kissed the communal toys. I'm *really* sorry about that in particular.

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

You see, when we were leaving the house he was a pretty cranky little bugger. The deep snow has kept us chained to the house for most of the week and I figured he had just had enough of looking at the four walls around him. A change would do him good, right? So I bundled him up and gave my shoulders one hell of an awesome workout, pushing him in the stroller all the way to the playgroup.

He ran and jumped and played, we came home for lunch, I put him down for his nap, and everything seemed fine. It wasn't until a few hours later, after he woke up, that the "scene from The Exorcist" eruptions began to literally spew out of him. Within 8 hours it was clear that no family member was going to be spared this indignity. Suffice it to say I'm pretty grateful for the "sanitize" settings on my washer and dryer right now.

With the gift of hindsight, it's pretty clear that his morning fussiness was because of the coming (literal) shitstorm. Given the incubation period of the average norovirus, it is only now clear to me that he was probably contagious as he was was all up in your face. And your kid's face. And slobbering all over the toys. In my defence, if I had known what lay only mere hours ahead, I never would have taken him out. Really, I had no idea! Nevertheless, if it makes you feel any better, (and as you furiously work on decontamination, it probably doesn't) I feel like a giant asshole for unknowingly spreading a plague. Just remember how cute he is and how happy that hug made you as you plot your revenge.